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THE  LITTLE  PEOPLE   OF   THE  SNOW. 


THE    LITTLE 


PEOPLE  OF  THE  SNOW. 


BY 

WILLIAM    CULLEN   BRYANT. 


Illustrated 

FROM  DESIGNS  BY  ALFRED  FREDERICKS,  ENGRAVED  BY  A.   BOBBETT. 


NEW     YORK: 

D.      APPLETON     AND     COMPANY, 
549  &  551    BROADWAY. 

1873- 


EWTUKIX  According  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  187*, 

BY  D.  APPLETON  &  CO., 
In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


1  t 


THE  LITTLE  PEOPLE  OF  THE  SNOW. 


Alice. — One    of   your    old-world    stories, 

Uncle  John, 

Such  as  you  tell  us  by  the  winter  fire, 
Till  we  all  wonder  it  has  grown  so  late. 

Uncle  John. — The  story  of  the  witch  that 

ground  to  death 

Two  children  in  her  mill,  or  will  you  have 
The  tale  of  Goody  Cutpurse  ? 


M162523 


THE  LITTLE  PEOPLE    OF   THE  SNOW. 

Alice.—  Nay,  now,  nay  ; 

Those  stories  are  too  childish,  Uncle  John, 
Too  childish  even  for  little  Willy  here, 
And  I  am  older,  two  good  years,  than  he  ; 
No,  let  us  have  a  tale  of  elves  that  ride, 
By  night,  with  jingling  reins,  or  gnomes  of  the  mine, 
Or  water-fairies,  such  as  you  know  how 


To  spin,  till  Willy's  eyes  forget  to  wink, 
And  good  Aunt  Mary,  busy  as  she  is, 
Lays  down  her  knitting. 

Uncle  Jo/in. —  Listen  to  me,  then. 

'Twas  in  the  olden  time,  long,  long  ago, 
And  long  before  the  great  oak  at  our  door 
Was  yet  an  acorn,  on  a  mountain's  side 


THE  LITTLE  PEOPLE   OF  THE  SNOW. 


Lived,  with  his  wife,  a  cottager.     They  dwelt 
Beside  a  glen  and  near  a  dashing  brook, 
A  pleasant  spot  in  spring,  where  first  the  wren 
Was  heard  to  chatter,  and,  among  the  grass, 
Flowers    opened    earliest ;     but,   when    winter 

came, 
That    little    brook    was     fringed    with    other 

flowers, — 
White  flowers,  with  crystal  leaf  and  stem,  that 

grew 

In  clear  November  nights.     And,  later  still, 
That   mountain    glen   was    filled  with    drifted 

snows 

From  side  to  side,  that  one  might  walk  across, 
While,  many  a  fathom  deep,  below,  the  brook 
Sang  to  itself,  and  leaped  and  trotted  on 
Unfrozen,  o'er  its  pebbles,  toward  the  vale. 


THE  LITTLE  PEOPLE   OF  THE  SNOW. 

Alice. — A    mountain's    side,    you    said ;    the    Alps, 

perhaps, 
Or  our  own  Alleghanies. 

Uncle  John. —  Not  so  fast, 

My  young  geographer,  for  then  the  Alps, 
With  their  broad  pastures,  haply  were  untrod 
Of  herdsman's  foot,  and  never  human  voice 
Had  sounded  in  the  woods  that  overhang 
Our  Alleghany's  streams.     I  think  it  was 
Upon  the  slopes  of  the  great  Caucasus, 
Or  where  the  rivulets  of  Ararat 
Seek  the  Armenian  vales.     That  mountain  rose 
So  high,  that,  on  its  top,  the  winter  snow 
Was  never  melted,  and  the  cottagers 
Among  the  summer  blossoms,  far  below, 
Saw  its  white  peaks  in  August  from  their  door. 

One  little  maiden,  in  that  cottage  home, 
Dwelt  with  her  parents,  light  of  heart  and  limb, 
Bright,  restless,  thoughtless,  flitting  here  and  there, 


THE  LITTLE  PEOPLE   OF  THE  SNOW. 


Like  sunshine  on  the  uneasy  ocean  waves, 
And  sometimes  she  forgot  what  she  was  bid, 
As  Alice  does. 

Alice. —  Or  Willy,  quite  as  oft. 

Uncle  John. — But  you  are  older,  Alice,  two  good  years, 
And  should  be  wiser.     Eva  was  the  name 
Of  this  young  maiden,  now  twelve  summers  old. 
Now  you  must  know  that,  in  those  early  times, 


10 


THE  LITTLE  PEOPLE    OF  THE  SNOW, 


When  autumn  days  grew  pale,  there  came 
a  troop 

Of  childlike  forms  from  that  cold  moun 
tain  top  ; 

With  trailing  garments  through  the  air 
they  came, 


THE  LITTLE  PEOPLE   OF   THE  SNOW.  n 


Or  walked  the  ground  with  girded  loins,  and  threw 
Spangles  of  silvery  frost  upon  the  grass, 
And  edged  the  brook  with  glistening  parapets, 
And  built  it  crystal  bridges,  touched  the  pool, 
And  turned  its  face  to  glass,  or,  rising  thence, 
They  shook,  from  their  full  laps,  the  soft,  light  snow, 
And  buried  the  great  earth,  as  autumn  winds 
Bury  the  forest  floor  in  heaps  of  leaves. 

A  beautiful  race  were  they,  with  baby  brows, 
And  fair,  bright  locks,  and  voices  like  the  sound 
Of  steps  on  the  crisp  snow,  in  which  they  talked 
With  man,  as  friend  with  friend.     A  merry  sight 
It  was,  when,  crowding  round  the  traveller, 
They  smote  him  with  their  heaviest  snow-flakes,  flung 
Needles  of  frost  in  handfuls  at  his  cheeks, 
And,  of  the  light  wreaths  of  his  smoking  breath, 
Wove  a  white  fringe  for  his  brown  beard,  and  laughed 
Their  slender  laugh  to  see  him  wink  and  grin 


12 


THE  LITTLE  PEOPLE   OF  THE  SNOW. 


And  make  grim  faces  as  he  floundered  on. 

But,  when  the  spring  came  on,  what  terror  reigned 


THE  LITTLE  PEOPLE   OF  THE  SNOW. 


Among  these  Little  People  of  the  Snow  ! 

To  them  the  sun's  warm  beams  were  shafts  of  fire, 

And  the  soft  south  wind  was  the  wind  of  death. 

Away  they  flew,  all  with  a  pretty  scowl 

Upon  their  childish  faces,  to  the  north, 

Or  scampered  upward  to  the  mountain's  top, 

And  there  defied  their  enemy,  the  Spring ; 

Skipping  and  dancing  on  the  frozen  peaks, 


THE  LITTLE  PEOPLE    OP    THE  SNOW. 


•;  ; 


And  moulding  little  snow-balls  in  their  palms, 
And  rolling  them,  to  crush  her  flowers  below, 
Down  the  steep  snow-fields. 

Alice. —         That,  too,  must  have  been 
A  merry  sight  to  look  at. 

Uncle  John. —         You  are  right, 
But  I  must  speak  of  graver  matters  now. 

Mid-winter  was  the  time,  and  Eva  stood, 
Within  the  cottage,  all  prepared  to  dare 
The  outer  cold,  with  ample  furry  robe 
Close  belted  round  her  waist,  and  boots  of  fur, 
And  a  broad  kerchief,  which  her  mother's  hand 
Had  closely  drawn  about  her  ruddy  cheek. 


THE  LITTLE  PEOPLE   OF   THE  SNOW.  15 


"  Now,  stay  not  long  abroad,"  said  the  good  dame, 
"  For  sharp  is  the  outer  air,  and,  mark  me  well, 
Go  not  upon  the  snow  beyond  the  spot 
Where  the  great  linden  bounds  the  neighboring  field." 

The  little  maiden  promised,  and  went  forth, 
And  climbed  the  rounded  snow-swells  firm  with  frost 
Beneath  her  feet,  and  slid,  with  balancing  arms, 


1 6  THE  LITTLE  PEOPLE   OF  THE  SNOW. 


Into  the  hollows.      Once,  as  up  a  drift 

She  slowly  rose,  before  her,  in  the  way, 

She  saw  a  little  creature  lily-cheeked, 

With  flowing  flaxen  locks,  and  faint  blue  eyes, 

That  gleamed  like  ice,  and  robe  that  only  seemed 

Of  a  more  shadowy  whiteness  than  her  cheek. 

On  a  smooth  bank  she  sat. 

Alice. —         She  must  have  been 
One  of  your  Little  People  of  the  Snow. 

Uncle  John. — She  was  so,  and,  as  Eva  now  drew  near 
The  tiny  creature  bounded  from  her  seat ; 
"  And  come,"  she  said,  "  my  pretty  friend  ;   to-day 
We  will  be  playmates.      I  have  watched  thee  long, 
And  seen  how  well  thou  lov'st  to  walk  these  drifts, 
And  scoop  their  fair  sides  into  little  cells, 
And  carve  them  with  quaint  figures,  huge-limbed  men, 
Lions,  and  griffins.     We  will  have,  to-day, 
A  merry  ramble  over  these  bright  fields, 
And  thou  shalt  see  what  thou  hast  never  seen." 

On  went  the  pair,  until  they  reached  the  bound 


THE  LITTLE  PEOPLE   OF   THE  SNOW. 


Where  the  great  linden  stood,  set  deep  in  snow, 

Up  to  the  lower  branches.      "  Here  we  stop," 

Said  Eva,  "  for  my  mother  has  my  word 

That  I  will  go  no  further  than  this  tree." 

Then  the  snow-maiden  laughed  :   "  And  what  is  this  ? 

This  fear  of  the  pure  snow,  the  innocent  snow, 

That  never  harmed  aught  living  ?     Thou  mayst  roam 

For  leagues  beyond  this  garden,  and  return 

In  safety  ;  here  the  grim  wolf  never  prowls, 


1 8  THE  LITTLE  PEOPLE   OF   THE  SNOW. 

And  here  the  eagle  of  our  mountain-crags 
Preys  not  in  winter.      I  will  show  the  way 
And  bring  thee  safely  home.     Thy  mother,  sure, 
Counselled  thee  thus  because  thou  hadst  no  guide." 

By  such  smooth  words  was  Eva  won  to  break 
Her  promise,  and  went  on  with  her  new  friend, 
Over  the  glistening  snow  and  down  a  bank 
Where  a  white  shelf,  wrought  by  the  eddying  wind, 
Like  to  a  billow's  crest  in  the  great  sea, 
Curtained  an  opening.      "  Look,  we  enter  here." 
And  straight,  beneath  the  fair  o'erhanging  fold, 
Entered  the  little  pair  that  hill  of  snow, 


THE  LITTLE  PEOPLE   OF  THE  SNOW. 


Walking  along  a  passage  with  white  walls, 
And  a  white  vault  above  where  snow-stars  shed 
A  wintry  twilight.      Eva  moved  in  awe, 
And  held  her  peace,  but  the  snow-maiden  smiled, 
And  talked  and  tripped  along,  as,  down  the  way, 
Deeper  they  went  into  that  mountainous  drift. 

And  now  the  white  walls  widened,  and  the  vault 
Swelled  upward,  like  some  vast  cathedral  dome, 
Such  as  the  Florentine,  who  bore  the  name 
Of  heaven's  most  potent  angel,  reared,  long  since, 
Or  the  unknown  builder  of  that  wondrous  fane, 
The  glory  of  Burgos.      Here  a  garden  lay, 
In  which  the  Little  People  of  the  Snow 
Were  wont  to  take  their  pastime  when  their  tasks 
Upon  the  mountain's  side  and  in  the  clouds 
Were  ended.     Here  they  taught  the  silent  frost 
To  mock,  in  stem  and  spray,  and  leaf  and  flower, 


20 


THE  LITTLE  PEOPLE   OF  THE  SNOW. 


The  growths  of  summer.      Here  the  palm  upreared 

Its  white  columnar  trunk  and  spotless  sheaf 

Of  plume-like  leaves  ;  here  cedars,  huge  as  those 


THE  LITTLE  PEOPLE    OF   THE   SNOW. 


21 


I 


Of  Lebanon,  stretched  far  their  level  boughs, 

Yet  pale  and  shadowless  ;  the  sturdy  oak 

Stood,  with  its  huge  gnarled  roots  of  seeming  strength, 


22 


THE  LITTLE   PEOPLE    OF   THE   SNOW. 

Fast  anchored^  in  the  glistening  bank  ;  light  sprays 

Of  myrtle,  roses  in  their  bud  and  bloom, 

Drooped  by  the  winding  walks  ;  yet  all  seemed  wrought 

Of  stainless  alabaster  ;   up  the  trees 

Ran  the  lithe  jessamine,  with  stalk  and  leaf 

Colorless  as  her  flowers.      "  Go  softly  on," 

Said  the  snow-maiden  ;   "  touch  not,  with  thy  hand, 

The  frail  creation  round  thee,  and  beware 

To  sweep  it  with  thy  skirts.     Now  look  above. 

How  sumptuously  these  bowers  are  lighted  up 

With  shifting  gleams  that  softly  come  and  go  ! 

These  are  the  northern  lights,  such  as  thou  seest 

In  the  midwinter  nights,  cold,  wandering  flames, 

That  float,  with  our  processions,  through  the  air ; 

And  here,  within  our  winter  palaces, 

Mimic  the  glorious  daybreak."     Then  she  told 

How,  when  the  wind,  in  the  long  winter  nights, 

Swept  the  light  snows  into  the  hollow  dell, 

She  and  her  comrades  guided  to  its  place 

Each  wandering  flake,  and  piled  them  quaintly  up, 

In  shapely  colonnade  and  glistening  arch, 

With  shadowy  aisles  between,  or  bade  them  grow 


THE  LITTLE  PEOPLE   OF  THE  SNOW. 

Beneath  their  little  hands,  to  bowery  walks 

In  gardens  such  as  these,  and,  o'er  them  all, 

Built  the  broad  roof.      "  But  thou  hast  yet  to  see 

A  fairer  sight,"  she  said,  and  led  the  way 

To  where  a  window  of  pellucid  ice 

Stood  in  the  wall  of  snow,  beside  their  path. 

""Look,  but  thou  mayst  not  enter."     Eva  looked, 


And  lo  !  a  glorious  hall,  from  whose  high  vault 
Stripes  of  soft  light,  ruddy,  and  delicate  green, 
And  tender  blue,  flowed  downward  to  the  floor 
And  far  around,  as  if  the  aerial  hosts, 
That  march  on  high  by  night,  with  beamy  spears, 
And  streaming  banners,  to  that  place  had  brought 
Their  radiant  flags  to  grace  a  festival. 


THE  LTTTLE  PEOPLE   OF   THE  SNOW. 


And  in  all  that  hall  a  joyous  multitude 
Of  those  by  v/hom  its  glistening  walls  were  reared, 
Whirled  in  a  merry  dance  to  silvery  sounds, 
That  rang  from  cymbals  of  transparent  ice, 
And  ice-cups,  quivering  to  the  skilful  touch 
Of  little  fingers.      Round  and  round  they  flew, 
As  when,  in  spring,  about  a  chimney-top, 
A  cloud  of  twittering  swallows,  just  returned, 
Wheel  round  and  round,  and  turn  and  wheel  again, 
Unwinding  their  swift  track.     So  rapidly 
Flowed  the  meandering  stream  of  that  fair  dance, 
Beneath  that  dome  of  light.      Bright  eyes  that  looked 
From  under  lily  brows,  and  gauzy  scarfs 


THE  LITTLE  PEOPLE    OF   THE  SNOW. 


Sparkling  like  snow-wreaths  in  the  early  sun, 
Shot  by  the  window  in  their  mazy  whirl. 


26  THE  LITTLE  PEOPLE   OF  THE  SNOW. 


And  there  stood  Eva,  wondering  at  the  sight 

Of  those  bright  revellers  and  that  graceful  sweep 

Of  motion  as  they  passed  her; — long  she  gazed, 

And  listened  long  to  the  sweet  sounds  that  thrilled 

The  frosty  air,  till  now  the  encroaching  cold 

Recalled  her  to  herself.      "  Too  long,  too  long 

I  linger  here,"  she  said,  and  then  she  sprang 

Into  the  path,  and  with  a  hurried  step 

Followed  it  upward.     Ever  by  her  side 

Her  little  guide  kept  pace.     As  on  they  went 

Eva  bemoaned  her  fault :  "  What  must  they  think — 

The  dear  ones  in  the  cottage,  while  so  long, 

Hour  after  hour,  I  stay  without  ?     I  know 

That  they  will  seek  me  far  and  near,  and  weep 

To  find  me  not.     How  could  I,  wickedly, 

Neglect  the  charge  they  gave  me  ?  "     As  she  spoke, 


THE  LITTLE  PEOPLE   OF  THE  SNOW. 


27 


The  hot  tears  started  to  her  eyes ;  she  knelt 
In  the  mid  path.      "  Father  !  forgive  this  sin; 
Forgive  myself  I  cannot  " — thus  she  prayed, 


28  THE  LITTLE  PEOPLE   OF  THE  SNOW. 

And  rose  and  hastened  onward.     When,  at  last, 
They  reached  the  outer  air,  the  clear  north  breathed 
A  bitter  cold,  from  which  she  shrank  with  dread, 
But  the  snow-maiden  bounded  as  she  felt 
The  cutting  blast,  and  uttered  shouts  of  joy, 


And  skipped,  with  boundless  glee,  from  drift  to  drift, 

And  danced  round  Eva,  as  she  labored  up 

The  mounds  of  snow,     "  Ah  me  !  I  feel  my  eyes 

Grow  heavy,"  Eva  said ;  "  they  swim  with  sleep ; 

I  cannot  walk  for  utter  weariness, 

And  I  must  rest  a  moment  on  this  bank, 

But  let  it  not  be  long."     As  thus  she  spoke, 

In  half-formed  words,  she  sank  on  the  smooth  snow, 

With  closing  lids.     Her  guide  composed  the  robe 

About  her  limbs,  and  said,  "  A  pleasant  spot 


THE  LITTLE  PEOPLE   OF  THE  SNOW.  29 


Is  this  to  slumber  in ;  on  such  a  couch 

Oft  have  I  slept  away  the  winter  night, 

And  had  the  sweetest  dreams."     So  Eva  slept, 

But  slept  in  death ;  for  when  the  power  of  frost 

Locks  up  the  motions  of  the  living  frame, 

The  victim  passes  to  the  realm  of  Death 

Through  the  dim  porch  of  Sleep.     The  little  guide, 

Watching  beside  her,  saw  the  hues  of  life 

Fade  from  the  fair  smooth  brow  and  rounded  cheek, 

As  fades  the  crimson  from  a  morning  cloud, 

Till  they  were  white  as  marble,  and  the  breath 

Had  ceased  to  come  and  go,  yet  knew  she  not 

At  first  that  this  was  death.      But  when  she  marked 

How  deep  the  paleness  was,  how  motionless 

That  once  lithe  form,  a  fear  came  over  her. 

She  strove  to  wake  the  sleeper,  plucked  her  robe, 

And  shouted  in  her  ear,  but  all  in  vain ; 

The  life  had  passed  away  from  those  young  limbs. 


THE   LITTLE   PEOPLE    OF  THE  SNOW. 


Then  the  snow-maiden  raised  a  wailing  cry, 
Such  as  a  dweller  in  some  lonely  wild, 
Sleepless  through  all  the  long  December  night, 
Hears  when  the  mournful  East  begins  to  blow. 
But  suddenly  was  heard  the  sound  of  steps, 
Grating  on  the  crisp  snow ;  the  cottagers 


THE    LITTLE   PEOPLE    OF   THE  SNOW. 


•I 


Were  seeking  Eva;  from  afar  they  saw 

The  twain,  and  hurried  toward  them.      As  they  came, 

With  gentle  chidings  ready  on  their  lips, 

And  marked  that  death-like  sleep,  and  heard  the  tale 

Of  the  snow-maiden,  mortal  anguish  fell 

Upon  their  hearts,  and  bitter  words  of  grief 

And  blame  were  uttered:  " Cruel,  cruel  one, 

To  tempt  our  daughter  thus,  and  cruel  we, 

Who  suffered  her  to  wander  forth  alone 

In  this  fierce  cold."     They  lifted  the  dear  child, 

And  bore  her  home  and  chafed  her  tender  limbs, 


32  THE  LTTTLE  PEOPLE   OF  THE  SNOW. 

And  strove,  by  all  the  simple  arts  they  knew, 

To  make  the  chilled  blood  move,  and  win  the  breath 

Back  to  her  bosom ;  fruitlessly  they  strove. 

The  little  maid  was  dead.      In  blank  despair 

They  stood,  and  gazed  at  her  who  never  more 

Should  look  on  them.      "  Why  die  we  not  with  her  ?  " 

They  said;  "without  her  life  is  bitterness." 


THE  LITTLE  PEOPLE   OF  THE  SNOW. 


33 


Now  came  the  funeral  day  ;  the  simple  folk 
Of  all  that  pastoral  region  gathered  round, 
To  share  the  sorrow  of  the  cottagers. 
They  carved  a  way  into    the  mound  of  snow 
To  the  glen's  side,  and  dug  a  little  grave 
In  the  smooth  slope,  and,  following  the  bier, 
In  long  procession  from  the  silent  door, 
Chanted  a  sad  and  solemn  melody. 


34 


THE  LITTLE  PEOPLE   OF  THE  SNOW. 


"  Lay  her  away  to  rest  within  the  ground. 
Yea,  lay  her  down  whose  pure  and  innocent  life 
Was  spotless  as  these  snows  ;  for  she  was  reared 
In  love,  and  passed  in  love  life's  pleasant  spring, 
And  all  that  now  our  tenderest  love  can  do 
Is  to  give  burial  to  her  lifeless  limbs." 

They  paused.     A  thousand  slender  voices  round, 
Like  echoes  softly  flung  from  rock  and  hill, 
Took  up  the  strain,  and  all  the  hollow  air 
Seemed  mourning  for  the  dead ;  for,  on  that  day, 
The  little  people  of  the  snow  had  come, 


THE  LITTLE  PEOPLE   OF  THE  SNOW. 


35 


From  mountain-peak,  and  cloud,  and  icy  hall, 
To  Eva's  burial.     As  the  murmur  died, 
The  funeral  train  renewed  the  solemn  chant. 

"Thou,  Lord,  hast  taken  her  to  be  with  Eve, 
Whose  gentle  name  was  given  her.     Even  so, 
For  so  Thy  wisdcm  saw  that  it  was  best 
For  her  and  us.     We  bring  our  bleeding  hearts, 
And  ask  the  touch  of  healing  from  Thy  hand, 
As,  with  submissive  tears,  we  render  back 
The  love)y  and  beloved  to  Him  who  gave." 


THE  LITTLE  PEOPLE   OF  THE  SNOW. 


They  ceased.      Again  the  plaintive  murmur  rose. 
From  shadowy  skirts  of  low-hung  cloud  it  came, 
And  wide  white  fields,  and  fir-trees  capped  with  snow, 
Shivering  to  the  sad  sounds.     They  sank  away 
To  silence  in  the  dim-seen  distant  woods. 
The  little  grave  was  closed ;  the  funeral  train 
Departed;  winter  wore  away;  the  spring 


THE  LITTLE  PEOPLE   OF  THE  SXOW. 


37 


Steeped,  with  her  quickening  rains,  the  violet  tufts, 

By  fond  hands  planted  where  the  maiden  slept. 

But,  after  Eva's  burial,  never  more 

The  Little  People  of  the  Snow  were  seen 

By  human  eye,  nor  ever  human  ear 

Heard  from  their  lips,  articulate  speech  again ; 

For  a  decree  went  forth  to  cut  them  off, 

Forever,  from  communion  with  mankind. 


THE  LITTLE  PEOPLE   OF  THE  SNOW. 


The  winter  clouds,  along  the  mountain-side, 
Rolled  downward  toward  the  vale,  but  no  fair  form 
Leaned  from  their  folds,  and,  in  the  icy  glens, 
And  aged  woods,  under  snow-loaded  pines, 
Where  once  they  made  their  haunt,  was  emptiness. 


THE  LITTLE   PEOPLE   OF   THE  SNOW. 


39 


But  ever,  when  the  wintry  days  drew  near, 
Around  that  little  grave,  in  the  long  night, 
Frost- wreaths  were  laid  and  tufts  of  silvery  rime 


40  THE  LITTLE   PEOPLE   OF   THE  SNOW. 

In  shape  like  blades  and  blossoms  of  the  field, 
As  one  would  scatter  flowers  upon  a  bier. 


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